The Executioner
by Impart101A
Summary: Christine is a normal teenage girl with two parents and a younger brother. But one morning on a weekend she gets a strange package addressed to her and soon- Her life, her family, her name, weren't all that she thought it was. Now living on the edge-Christine survives the streets of Gotham and a handful of Gotham's Rogue Crimminals. Did anyone mention a particular Bat?


The Executioner

_She was strong. She had to be, because he was-and if she wasn't- He would destroy her, tear her soul to pieces. She feared her him-but she couldn't run. Not in a dying and hopeless city in the middle of winter with a ticking bomb. So she did what she could, she fought._

"Christine!" I looked up from my orange comforter, "Yeah Mom?" I called down the stairs, "There's a package here for you!" She yelled back, I sighed heavily as I gnawed on the tip of my pen. "Alright, be down in a minute!" I quickly scribbled out the answer to my next Trigonometry problem, got to love math right?

I skip down the stairs-two at a time gripping the banister-just because I was known for my two left feet a couple of trips to the hospital made sure I would hold on to the railings before I went tearing through the house. Mom had left the curious package near the doorway; it was a thick box that came up a little further then my knee wrapped firmly in brown tape. I looked over the address as I scooped the package into my arms, faltering slightly with the weight. I could hardly lift this thing; I lugged the big brute up into my room before running back down stairs to get a knife. "Hey Dad?" I called peeping into his study and he looked up from his sea of books and folders with questions in his eyes. "You know of any place called the 'Eleutheros?' I got a package from there and…I don't think I ordered anything." My father looked down disinterested, "You did order a new ski mask last week since you crack yours-"He shot me a slight glare from over his glasses, I had broken the $75 Dollar mask by setting my box of swimming trophies on it. I scratched the back of my head sheepishly before disappearing upstairs into my room.

I cracked the box open to find a way, firm black material. I pulled it out and snorted-it was a full blackbody suit-a small paper twirled to the ground as I reached to pick it up it said simply "Kevlar suit" in an elegant cursive. "Is this a joke?" I muttered under my breath- looking back into the box to find another sleek black one, pulling it out I almost fell over by its sheer weight. I quickly unlatched the knobs that had tiny skulls carved for them and flipped it open. My eyes bugged-Jesus Christ! A disassembled AR-15 Rifle was neatly placed clammy into the box. Quickly shutting it I gulped, I grabbed the box and turned it over- "For Christine Jefferson-May you always be safe" How could this be shipped by the post office and not be checked? Everything was checked now-a-days you can't just give firearms to some 16-year-old kid. Well you technically could, but I had never really touched a gun before, though I knew my brother's hunted. I looked back into the box, there were three small black boxes left, all different in size. Choking down my fear I reached for the biggest of the three, slowly pulling it out like it would explode on me at any second. I opened the next, looking at two twin gruesome Paul Hatchets, Paul Hatchets were a cross between a hatchet and a knife. It was a fabulous work-if you were a knife collector-in most cases it cut through bone quite easily. But most were used in kitchen's for party goer's, I frowned as I picked a blade up to closely examine it the handle had little weighted on the end, to make sure the blade and the handle had relative weight, and the blade slightly heavier. With a start I realized someone had turned a kitchen tool into a throwing weapon. I shuddered who had sent these things to me?

"Jesus Christ Christine!-Do you not hear me when I call you?-"My mother burst into my room saying, She took one look at the stuff I had splayed out on the floor and went pale as a sheet. "Sw-sweetheart, I want you to call your friends and have a sleepover."

"What?" I asked, not believing my ears- my mother NEVER allowed sleepovers, or me to go to anyone's house. Ever. It was a rule of the house, Christine goes nowhere.

"_Go now!" _She screamed at me tears leaking out of her eyes, I freaked out-I never had seen my mother like this. I ran out of the house-barefoot-because that was how freaked I was. Someone sending me firearms, mom scared and yelling, me without shoes. I ran down the block stones digging their way into my feet. I ran to the park, which conveniently started on the next block-I always went there whens things went bad. Serenity and peace were beautiful to me. The trees were my shelter so the woods were my home. I once "ran away" from my parents and lived here, in the park, for three days-eating berries and nuts and roasting animals with the lighter I had brought with me. But then I accidently stepped over a bee's nest holed in the ground and they swarmed me, I stumbled out on the path of the forest and bystanders took me to the hospital... Because of the toxin it had almost caused me to die, so now I was to be administered doses of medicine via shot to keep the pain and white blood cell level from going crazy.

I climbed up a tree and stretched out on a long limb; I curled my arms around it and nuzzled my face into the rough bark. I breathed in silent wisps, when I heard a strange rasping noise. I looked around me, looking for the source-then I heard a loud _Crack _and I plummeted to the ground. I landed on my front my head bouncing off the ground. My vision tunneled and the last thing I saw before my vision went black was a looming man in a respirator mask.

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So a preview of my idea-not my best but-hey it's an idea I wanted to throw out there. Not my longest either but... So anyway...

我爱你， 再见！Please rate and review to continue

-Half-Masked, TheGirlHero, The-Chesire's-Rival (Can you tell I love to change my pen name?)


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